The great audio divide
Analog vs. digital
It’s a heated debate, even vicious at times. It definitely rivals Yankees/Red Sox, Michigan/OSU, and UNC/Duke. For the record, I don’t favor either baseball team. But I categorically root against OSU and Duke—and for personal reasons. As for the debate in question, with few exceptions, it’s usually men who will pick one of two camps, cling obsessively to it, even to the extent of gladly dying on the respective hill. Hypothetically, of course.
What debate could possibly cause so much human pathos and angst? Musical format, as in analog vs. digital. More specifically, listening to LPs/records vs. CDs and SACDs. Before plunging down a musical rabbit hole, some background might be useful. For that, we have to go all the way back to the 50s, a burgeoning time for electronics. TV’s were inexpensive enough that most people could afford them. Listening to music took the form of radios or record players, some of which came in consoles almost as big as mom’s sofa, which was covered in thick scuff-proof plastic.
With few exceptions, music was recorded in single-channel mono—or monophonic—sound. The first stereo/stereophonic, two channel recordings—at least for classical music—started to appear on the market around the time I was born. Which was 1954, if you insist on knowing. What is age, but mind over mattress. I think Kafka said that. Regardless, the late 50s also coincided with a new phenomenon called the “audiophile,” or those who made HiFi/sound equipment and listening to recordings a hobby. Many early audiophiles actually built their own equipment from home kits including amplifiers and speakers. My brother Tom, would do just that some years later.
No surprise that hobbyist and trade magazines sprouted up to fuel the new craze for all things electronic. One of the biggest early things to hit the market was a speaker designed by Acoustic Research (AR). AR was founded in 1952 by researcher and audio-electronics teacher, Edgar Villchur, and his student, Henry Kloss. The company was started to produce the AR-1, a single speaker based on Villchur’s revolutionary acoustic suspension design. It was light-years beyond speakers currently used in the behemoth HiFi cabinets. You can find photos online showing groups of people (men) in front of an AR-1 speaker listening to music. Keep in mind that this was a single speaker playing a mono recording. That would soon change with stereo recordings necessitating a pair of speakers. Talk about minds being blown.
From the 60s on, advancements in sound reproduction technology scaled up. Better and more powerful amplifiers, tuners for radio, speakers, and record players—which over time morphed into dedicated turntables. One could still opt for an all-in-one system, which included the aforementioned turntable, power source, and speakers. But the true audiophile/guy wanted a stereo system comprising separate components for all the previous, with possible additions of a reel-to-reel tape deck and more than one pair of speakers.
A pause to note that audio equipment, and tech in general—is something with which the male of the species can easily become afflicted and even obsessed. And yes, it points to the title of today’s entry. We’re getting there. Just a few more tidbits.
In the 70s, HiFi started to go high end. By then, small companies hand-crafting stereo components had started to proliferate the sonic landscape. Many specialized in speakers vs. amplifiers, etc. Some of the designs were radically new (planar speakers) while others stuck to variations of the tried and true. Regardless of design, some of the products were expensive, even for the time. I remember trying out a pair of headphones at a stereo shop that cost over $500 during my undergrad days at UNM in the 70s. They sounded remarkable—but not $500 remarkable.
A reminder that up until this point, music was analog. Meaning sound was recorded via microphones on to magnetic tape and then transferred to a master disc, and finally on to vinyl long playing records or other media. Then Sony and Phillips changed everything. During the 70s, both companies developed prototypes for digital recorders and discs. They joined forces and gave the world the compact disc.
I remember hearing a CD for the first time. It was in 1982 when I was in grad school at Michigan. At some point, Linda Gilbert, a friend and oboe player from school, invited a group of us to her house for Sunday dinner. Aside from risking a social tragedy by inviting a group of us simian trumpet players, meeting her parents and sharing a home cooked meal was splendid. I have to also mention that my wife Carla was there too, adding much-needed female energy and social decorum.
Beforehand, Linda told us that her dad had an expensive stereo, and he had just bought one of the new Sony CD players, to the tune of over $1K. Mr. Gilbert was only too happy to demonstrate his new toy. He put on a CD of a Tchaikovsky symphony and cranked the volume. The lot of us were blown away, just like the guy in the photo above.
The sound was tremendous. The best I’d ever heard on any system. Precision, clarity, detail, dynamics—all unmatched. In that moment, I knew I had to have a CD player. That would have to wait several years until 1985. By then, I was out of school and Carla and I were living in a chic apartment atop Russian Hill on Lombard St. in the City. That year, I managed to scrape together enough shekels to by a basic Sony CD player. I think it cost over $350. By then, I owned a small pair of Magnepan planar speakers, which looked like a couple of Japanese screens in the living room. The combination of CD’s and speakers was beyond expectation. The only drawbacks being a lack of bass on the part of the latter and the fact that CD’s cost between $20 and $25 each.
I initially bought four CD’s. I still have them. They still sound as good as the first time I played them. In fact, I’m listening to one of them right now, Glen Gould’s second recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations on CBS/Sony. And now, mein liebchen, we have landed the plane.
CDs and digital recording changed the music listening world. Manning a turntable, cleaning records, and listening to scratches and surface noise on your favorite tunes, were no longer part of the equation. One could easily put on a CD and listen to a noise-free recording that was theoretically a transparent representation of the actual performance. But digital also had a potential downside in being too accurate, and not hesitating to show how shitty a recording was.
Digital recordings have been with us now for over 40 years. During that time, Steve Jobs also gave us iTunes and the iPod, both using MP3 files; a somewhat compressed format for music. It sounds decent, especially in Lossless version. But it’s not CD-quality. And purists—those who will willingly fight and die on the analog hill, say it’s also not as good as their favorite vinyl recordings. And yes, they call it vinyl. You kids get off my turn table.
Everything I’ve just described has to do with recording and reproducing music. However, the music—and our experience listening to it—is the bottom line. Which explains why context and the listening experience is so insanely broad; from guys who spend six figures on a sound system (yes, they do exist and in numbers) all the way to others who would never spend a penny on sound equipment beyond their phone and a decent pair of buds. Which brings us, finally, to the great debate.
In one camp we have those who are adamant in their belief that analog records sound better than anything. In the other camp, and just as quick to froth at the mouth, is the digital group. Those who believe digitally made recordings, especially those done in high definition 16 or 24-bit format, are the most accurate way to record and reproduce music possible. At least for now, before we all get BORG cranial implants brought to you by Microsoft. We’ll save that for a future post.
I’ve hinted at the fact that the two camps do not get along, much like the current political landscape. In fact, the two factions don’t seem to be able to peaceably co-exist. To that point, I’ve seen witnessed many vicious skirmishes on social media. Hint at the fact you subscribe to one of the camps, and you will be quickly nuked by those in the other. It gets downright ugly—and fast.
Why all the fuss, you ask? The answer is complex, and it involves belief and context. Personally, I can see both sides of the debate. After all, I own over a thousand records. And they’re not vinyl, for god’s sake. I’ve bought records since the mid-60s, and have decades of experience listening to analog recordings. Some of them have amazing sound quality, especially certain early stereo classical recordings from the late 50s and early 60s. Even more so, early digital classical recordings from the late 70s and early 80s that were released as analog records. However, I strongly believe—and am ready to duck under the desk as I write this—that the analog format is inherently flawed.
To produce sound, records require the friction of a stylus/needle on the cartridge scraping against the walls of vinyl, a somewhat permeable substance. Thus every time you play a record, a bit of the surface, however minuscule, is worn away. There’s also surface noise in the form of clicks, pops, and scratches, if anything from static electricity which is all too common in the desert climate where I live. Even the finest 180-gram virgin vinyl pressings (actually a term) are still subject to surface noise at the very least from collecting dust even when not played and just stored in protective plastic sleeves. Hearing surface noise on even your finest analog recordings is inevitable—which never happens with a CD.
As mentioned above, I still have the first four CD’s I bought in the summer of 1985. They sound the same—pristine without any surface noise whatsoever. And though the plastic used to make the discs will slowly degrade over time, the loss of sound quality may not be discernable to the ear.
If those in the analog camp have one thing going for them, it’s the fact that the best mastered recordings done in state of the art—and very expensive—formats sound incredible, arguably even better than digital recordings. Recently, Steely Dan’s album, Aja, one of the great commercial recordings ever made, was released in UHQR format (ultra-high quality record). It costs a mere $150. Aja is a personal favorite and I own multiple CD and LP versions in different formats. But I am not tempted to fork over $150 for a record. That’s ludicrous.
Otherwise, all things being equal, as in the master used for an analog record and a CD being of equal quality—I can see the argument for records sounding as good as CD’s. Just not for long—and for significantly more money.
In the end, the argument for analog vs. digital may just be first world castles burning. It’s all about enjoying music. For many, a playlist on the phone with a pair of buds more than suffices. For others like me, listening to music involves dedicated audio equipment and different formats. C’est la vie—and to each their own. Music is to be enjoyed in whatever way and by whatever means one deems best. However, there’s just one thing. Don’t ever call records vinyl in front of me. If you do that, I may growl at you. Just kidding. Or not.
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First off, I love that you love Aja. I think it is the great music album ever made, analog or digital.
Second, I'm totally in the digital camp. My wife and I used to have literally thousands of vinyl albums, they are gone now. I have 6400 tracks on my iphone and I just love having music so handy. Most of the tracks came from cd's which are also now gone.
Third, I know lots of people, especially the young set, who love vinyl and swear by its superiority. Hey more power to them is what I say. I'll stick with my iphone. I remember the old days with vinyl and sweating over the surface noise and pops, and the warps and all that. Spent a fortune on disk cleaning products and admonishing those who put their fingerprints on my records. Don't miss those days at all. I do miss the days when you'd be invited to come over to somebody's house and bring an album or two and we'd listen to each other's music. Those days are gone and I miss that.
That image of the sound blasting over the listener in the chair and some cartoons on the same theme are priceless. Sound is such a powerful sense. It's difficult to comprehend a world of silence, though would prefer that over being sightless. I do remember being awed, in (I think) 1973, attending a Grateful Dead concert at the Cow Palace. They were backed by a towering new sound system in the form of an altar of speakers that made the floor rumble. That experience made quite the impression, for one so young and so very impressionable!